“Guys, this is …” I paused, not quite sure what to call Willow before continuing. “… my new friend, Willow.” I then introduced her to my sister, Beth, and Violet.
“You’re SO pretty!” gushed my niece. “Like a Disney princess.”
Thanking her for the compliment, Willow blushed, but indeed she was as beautiful as any princess. In fact, that was an understatement. She was exquisite with her fine-featured porcelain-skinned face and her riotous red hair that was held back with a headband. My eyes stayed on her lithe, fuckable body as she set the platter down on my dining table. A few moments later we all sat down to eat. To my relief, conversation flowed, and though my sister was asking Willow lots of questions, the kickass trial lawyer that she was, the mood was relaxed. And my stunning companion was handling the interrogation well.
“So, Willow, what do you do?” asked my sister.
Willow set down her sandwich. “I’m a dancer.”
“You mean like Angelina Ballerina?” asked wide-eyed Violet.
Willow smiled. “Yes, I’m a ballerina, but I’m not a mouse.”
My niece burst out into laughter. Her laughter was contagious and we all followed suit.
Calming down, Violet sipped her chocolate milk through a straw and then said, “When I grow up, I want to be a ballerina just like you.”
“We’ll see about that.” My sister rolled her eyes. Knowing my ambitious sister, she probably had plans for Violet to become come President of the United States. I silently laughed. How ironic that my lesbian sister would give birth to the girliest of girls. My mother’s genes must have slipped in there somewhere.
A connection, however, was forming between my niece and Willow. Chatty Violet fired one question after another at Willow, who answered every one.
“Willow, can you teach me how to do ballet?”
Willow winked at her. “If you eat your whole hot dog and finish your milk, I think I can do that.”
“YAY!” Eagerly, my niece took a couple of big bites of her hot dog, finishing it, and then depleted her milk. My sister glanced down at her watch.
“Ryan, our flight departs at four o’clock. We need to leave soon.”
Beth offered to help Willow clean up. My niece, already so attached to Willow, tagged along, leaving my sister and me alone.
“I really like her,” began my sister, wasting no time to give her opinion of Willow.
I smiled with relief. I valued my sister’s opinions, and it wasn’t easy for her to approve of someone.
“Where does she dance? Is she part of a company?”
“She was.”
“Which one?”
“Some company in Latvia.
“Latvia?”
I nodded. “She doesn’t like to talk about it much. She’s on some kind of sabbatical.”
My inquisitive sister persisted. “Haven’t you Googled her? Gone on Facebook? Or Instagram?”
I told my sister that I couldn’t find anything about her on social media. Truthfully, I’d kept away.
Narrowing her eyes with suspicion, Mimi dragged the pad of her thumb along her lips. “That’s odd.”
I came to Willow’s defense. “Not everyone is an open book.”
“Says the man who wrote a tell-all memoir.”
“Says the woman who keeps secrets.”
Just like when we were kids, my sister and I were at each other. Verbal sparring.
Then, my sister’s expression turned solemn. “Ryan, I just don’t want to see you get hurt again.”
I twitched a small smile. Even though we had our moments—and what siblings didn’t?—my sister had my back. She always had…even when we were growing up with our dysfunctional, inattentive parents. And if it hadn’t been for her, I don’t know how I would have gotten through those god-awful months following Allee’s death. She’d even offered to be a surrogate and carry Allee’s baby if that helped, but I didn’t want her to bear that responsibility nor was I ready. After taking a sip of my cream soda, I responded.
“We’re taking it slowly, day by day.”
“Are you sleeping together?”
My muscles tensed. How should I answer that question?
“Well?”
“It’s complicated. We’ve fucked, but we haven’t spent the night together.”
Mimi cocked a brow. “Why is that?”
“She’s living with her father. He owns the deli around the corner. Their apartment is above it. Her bedroom is right next door to his. That’s pretty awkward.”
“So, why doesn’t she stay over here?”
“I can’t have her sleeping in the bed I shared with Allee.”
Mimi leaned back in her chair. “Little bro, I know how much that bed means to you, but maybe it’s time to get rid of it. And move on.”
I tensed. It was like she and Dr. Goodman were in cahoots with one another. “I’ll think about it.” My laissez-faire reaction to her comment was a far cry from the outraged one I had in my shrink’s office a few weeks ago.
Then, another thought entered my mind. “And besides, I don’t think it would be good for Violet to see her uncle in bed with a woman he wasn’t married to. I don’t want to give her the wrong impression.”
My sister’s reaction surprised me, though it shouldn’t have, given how liberal she was.
“Actually, I wouldn’t have a problem with that. Vi has only seen two women sleeping together in bed. For her, that’s the norm. It would be healthy for her to see how the heterosexual population lives, especially since she’s already a little boy crazy.”
“She already likes boys?”
Before my sister could reply, Violet’s sweet voice filled our ears. Sporting a bright smile, she came skipping toward us. Willow and Beth trailed behind her.
My eyes stayed on the adorable little girl as she curled her tiny hand on the back of one of the chairs around the table.
“Guess what!” she said excitedly. “Willow taught me how to do a plié in first position. Watch!”
Our eyes stayed on her as she put her heels together, forming a V, and then bent her knees so that she was almost squatting. She held out her other slender arm gracefully. A smile formed on Willow’s face as she looked on.
“Bravo!” I clapped.
“That’s wonderful,” chimed in my sister, though I wasn’t sure if she really meant it. My sister’s plans for her daughter likely included passing the bar, not doing pliés at the barre. I inwardly chortled.
“Mommy, Willow says she’s going to teach me more ballet. Maybe a whole dance.”
Having no clue about my sister’s career plans for my niece, Willow kept smiling.
“Violet’s adorable. I can’t wait to teach her more.”
Before my sister could say a word, her cell phone rang. It was their driver. He was here, waiting downstairs to take her and Beth to JFK. They quickly gathered their belongings as they rattled off do’s and don’t’s for my niece. Sheesh. After that five-page email, as if I didn’t know. Willow and I stifled our laughter.
Her roller bag by her side, my sister lifted Violet into her arms, and after kissing the top of her head, said, “I’m going to miss you, Vi-baby.” Her voice was a little watery. This was the first time she and Beth were leaving Violet alone for an extended period of time. It was Violet’s first sleepover, and for the first time in my adult life, I saw a softer, more vulnerable side of my sister. It was refreshing.
“Me too,” echoed Vi.
My sister smacked another kiss on her daughter’s scalp. “I love you from here to the moon and back.”
“I love you, too, and Mommy Beth. Don’t forget to bring me back a present!”
I watched with a tinge of envy as Violet gave her mommies farewell hugs. Maybe one day, I would have a little girl who would shower me with love and affection. I met Willow’s wistful gaze and wondered if she was thinking the same thing.
Confession. I had no clue what I was getting myself into when I volunteered to take care of my niece Violet for three
days. While I’d spent considerable time with her, I’d never spent 24/7 with her. She was a handful. A non-stop bundle of energy. Sometimes, I wanted to curse my sister out for not warning me. The kid didn’t even take naps.
Thank goodness for Willow; she was a blessing. Unlike me who’d grown up with absentee parents—a cold, ruthless father, who’d rather fuck his latest mistress than tuck in his son, and an equally cold, alcoholic mother, who’d rather go to a benefit for the zoo than take her children there—Willow grew up with loving, attentive parents and knew all the fun, kid-friendly city attractions to take Violet to. It also helped that she was a girl and knew what little girls liked. I had no clue; growing up with my rebellious sister, who was more like four going on forty-four, was no help.
Okay…another confession. I was having the best time I had in years. Each jam-packed day was full of fun, adventure, laughs, the unexpected…and love. We did things I’d never done before—like riding the sky-high tram to Roosevelt Island, ice skating at Chelsea Piers Sky Rink, and taking a ferry to the Statue of Liberty. We also went to the Museum of Natural History, where Vi showed off her encyclopedic knowledge of dinosaurs, and to a matinée performance of Wicked on Broadway. We all loved it and came out of the theater singing the songs before heading over to legendary Rumplemyers for ice cream sundaes.
Everywhere we went, people fawned over us and told us we were a beautiful family. It wasn’t surprising. Throughout our excursions, Violet, who looked a lot like me, with her light brown hair and baby blue eyes, stood between us holding our hands. Rather than correcting them, I simply thanked them. This was my first taste at what being a family was like and I more than enjoyed it. Interestingly, Willow never said a thing to the contrary either. I wondered why.
The fun we had together during the day spilled over into the evenings. In the early hours, Willow spent some secret “girl time” upstairs in the apartment she shared with her father and afterward we ate dinner at her father’s deli. Mel, with his big, loveable personality, wrapped Vi around his finger, making special treats for her like hamburgers with funny faces, spoiling her with extra desserts, and even letting her ring the cash register. The joy I got from watching them together couldn’t be put into words. Violet had never met my father as my sister couldn’t and wouldn’t forgive him for disowning her when he found out she was gay. A big part of me wished they would make amends, but given how bullheaded they both were made that unlikely. Chances were my sweet niece would never have a grandpa.
Following our first dinner together, Violet, who’d grown incredibly attached to Willow in less than a day, begged for her to come back to my place to watch some TV and put her to bed. She would not take no for an answer, cajoling us with pretty pleases and tears. On top of being too adorable for words, the kid was a great actress. I gave in.
The first night was awkward. Not for Violet, but for Willow and me. Watching Nickelodeon together was easy, but putting Vi to bed was a whole other story. The overactive child refused to go to sleep unless Willow tucked her in and read her a story. Again, the pretty pleases and the crocodile tears. Gutting me, the sucker that I was, I had no choice but to acquiesce. And since Violet was sleeping in my room, it meant that for the first time in our relationship Willow would be stepping foot in the bedroom I shared with Allee.
“Are you sure you want me to do this?” Willow asked as we wound up the stairs, me carrying an overjoyed Violet piggyback on my shoulders.
“Yeah…unless you want to pull an all-nighter cartoon marathon.” There was no doubt in my mind that this child could stay up all night and just the thought of entertaining her 24/7 was exhausting.
“Okay,” mumbled Willow as we entered my bedroom.
The antique four-poster bed that I bought as a wedding present for Allee practically smacked you in the eyes upon stepping foot in the sparsely furnished room. To my relief, Willow made no mention of it though she couldn’t stop staring at it. Yes, it was spectacular and I’m sure conjuring a lot of emotions in my companion. After I set Violet down, Willow hastily got my niece settled into her ballet slipper sleeping bag, which was parked on the rug near my bed. Violet loved it, especially after learning that Willow used to sleep in it as a child.
Once tucked in, Violet studied my bed. “That’s like a princess bed!” she exclaimed. “Do you sleep in it all by yourself, Uncle Ryan?”
I swallowed hard, searching for an answer. I wasn’t sure how much Violet knew about Allee. My niece wasn’t even born when Allee passed away. Once when I visited her in Boston, the inquisitive child asked me why I wasn’t a daddy and my sister told her it was none of her business. After that, any related discussion had never arisen. Nor had any questions about her sperm donor conception or the fact that she had a twin that didn’t make it. My sister uneventfully lost the second baby early on in her pregnancy, but I was sure one day when my niece was older she would explain everything to her.
“How come you’re not answering my question?” persisted Violet, definitely inheriting my sister-the-lawyer’s interrogation skills.
One pathetic word at last spilled from my lips: “Yeah.” I sleep it in alone.
Cocking her head, my niece shot me a puzzled look. “How come doesn’t Willow sleep in it with you? There’s lots of room. And it’s so pretty!”
My stomach twisted. This is exactly what I was afraid of. I exchanged an awkward glance with a flushed Willow, neither of us knowing what to say. Finally, Willow broke the ice.
“Because, sweetie, I have to go home and take care of my daddy.”
“Don’t you have a mommy that does that?”
Willow’s voice softened. “I used to, but she’s in heaven now.”
“Like my Auntie Allee? She’s in heaven too.”
At the mention of Allee’s name, my heart squeezed. So, my sister had told my niece about her. Not commenting, I saw discomfort wash over Willow’s face.
Violet’s twinkling eyes stayed fixed on Willow. “I bet they know each other.”
Willow twitched a smile as she straightened Violet’s long pigtails. “I bet they do.”
“My mommies told me that people in heaven are called angels and they watch over us.”
Willow’s smile widened. “I believe that too. Now, sweetie, you should go to sleep. We have a big day planned for tomorrow.”
“Can you read me a goodnight story first?”
“Sure. What book do you want me to read?”
A few minutes later, we were both seated on the carpet, cross-legged, as Willow read her one of the many Angelina Ballerina picture books she’d brought along.
By the end of the book, Violet was fast asleep. Five minutes later, Willow was out the door, leaving me bereft.
And so a routine began. A full day with Violet in the city…Willow and Vi’s secret girl time…dinner with Mel… television and bedtime.
With each passing day, my feelings for Willow grew. I loved how comfortable she was with my niece and how much Violet adored Willow. My new girl was naturally maternal. One day at lunch, my inquisitive niece asked her if she wanted to be a mommy. Convincingly, Willow told her what she’d told me—she wanted to have lots of kids, and after Violet asked her how many, she counted on her fingers, deciding on ten. Though I didn’t really believe that number, her heartfelt words resonated with me, and once again, I painfully thought about the embryos I’d made with Allee’s eggs. At some point, I was going to have to deal with them. Make a decision.
Putting Violet to bed at once became my favorite and least favorite part of the day. It meant saying goodnight to Willow too. While I was increasingly tempted to fuck her anywhere but my bed—on the kitchen counter, the dining table, the couch, and even the floor, she didn’t give me the chance. Once Violet fell asleep, she gave me the excuse that she had to leave and help her dad. Though I didn’t believe her, I didn’t argue. Fucking Willow while my niece was here probably wasn’t a good idea anyway. I shuddered at the thought of her waking up and finding us bared to each oth
er, entwined on the floor, panting and moaning. At the same time, that image made my cock ache. It had been over a week since I’d fucked Willow. And I wanted her badly. So badly I had to jerk off behind the locked door of my bathroom before I got into bed. My sad, empty bed.
On Monday, the final day of Violet’s stay, I had a long-standing lunch with my literary agent. Having canceled on her too many times, I had to meet her. Over breakfast with my niece at Mel’s, I explained this to Willow.
“Ry-man, don’t worry. I’ll take care of Vi. There’s one thing we haven’t done—and that’s go shopping.”
“Yay!” chimed in my exuberant niece, devouring one of Mel’s specialties—a thick wad of challah French toast smothered in maple syrup.
With a relieved smile, I reached into my jeans pocket for my cardholder and slapped my American Express card on the table.
“Here, baby. Use this.”
To my surprise, Willow shoved the card back at me.
“I don’t need it. This is all on me. Just try to be home by three…when your sister and Beth come to pick up Vi.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes, I’m sure.”
Slipping the card back into my pocket, I had the feeling that a surprise awaited me.
My literary agent, Paula Friedman, had agreed to meet me downtown for lunch at trendy Balthazar. I owed Paula my success. While the manuscript for Undying Love was initially rejected by agent after agent, all saying no one wanted to read a book with a sad ending, Paula fell in love with it and managed to sell it to a major publisher, getting me a nice advance. Little did anyone know that Allee’s farewell love letter would go viral and the book would go on to become a major bestseller. A shrewd, don’t-fuck-with-me negotiator, Paula had been instrumental in getting me a shitload of money for the film rights as well as a subsequent three-book deal, this time with an ungodly, unheard of advance.
Over roasted beet salads, we chatted about the literary world as well as the movie version of Undying Love. I told her I was going out to LA on Wednesday to meet with the producer and some of the cast. Then, she cut to the chase.
Endless Love Page 10
